My Secrets
by Harpy Wings
Summary: A Theo story: Keeping secrets is something I’m rather good at. I’ve kept secrets all my life. Big, mind blowing, life changing secrets, and small insignificant, ’who really cares?’ Secrets. TNOC. Warnings inside. Slash! Rape contence. On Hold
1. I am

**Title:** My Secrets  
**Rating:** M  
**Pairings:** Theodore Nott/OC, mentions of Theodore Nott/OC, Blaise Zabine/Numerous characters, and a little Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter  
**Summary: **Keeping secrets is something I'm rather good at. I've kept secrets all my life. Big, mind blowing, life changing secrets, and small insignificant, 'who really cares?' Secrets.  
**Warnings:** SLASH! Child sexual abuse (rape) suggestive and actual scenes, swearing and anorexia, and other things.

**Hey,**

**This is actually the first 'adult' fic I've written. Lately I read two different books on child sexual abuse **(Our Little Secret and Sold). **This story will have little humor and will be written differently to most of my fics. Updates may be slow (considering I've got four other fics I'm trying to write) so this will probably be like a once a month update. I advice those who are light hearted and who are not comfortable with rape and child abuse to NOT read this fic. I'm sorry if it will offend anyone.**

**Written in Theo's POV. First chapter is an introductory. I own nothing. **

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**Chapter 1: I am**

Keeping secrets is something I'm rather good at. I've kept secrets all my life. Big, mind blowing, life changing secrets, and small insignificant, 'who really cares?' Secrets. The first secret I ever kept was when I was five years-old. Still haven't told a soul about it. I broke my father's priceless family heirloom vase. Ran into when I was running away from my evil cousin, knocked the table, the vase wobbled dangerously then, as though in slow motion, tipped sideways and plumaged to the ground beside me, smashing into millions of little pieces.

I blamed it on my father's owl. He believed me.

But that's just one of the small secrets, one of the ones that don't really matter. Who cares if I broke a vase that my father repaired with a simple spell?

No, the big secrets are the ones I cling on to in the darkness of night, in the brightness of day. I carry them with me in my soul, locked behind a barrier, like a damn, restless to break free. I add to the damn, I made it bigger, I make it deeper, but I also make the barrier bigger, stronger, able to hold that damn so it will never break free and all my secrets I carry with me will not spill out and threaten to consume my whole being.

I live with the fear that it may.

People don't understand me. I know you hear it from everyone, the 'nobody understands me' speech. Ok, so maybe I lied, I'm sure there are people out there who do understand me, I just don't know them, and somehow I don't want to. Because revealing my secrets make them real, making them real is a reality I can never face.

At school I'm antisocial and practically invisible. I have friends; I just don't really talk to them. I would rather sit on my bed, curtains drawn, and draw, dragging my mind from my sick reality, from my secrets I hide. Or I drink away the pain, consume my senses in an alcoholic haze so I, for those few short hours, can forget.

I once took Muggle drugs, cocaine. I saw haunting images and never touched the stuff again.

My friends know there is something wrong with me. They don't know what, since I never reveal my secrets, but they suspect something. I know by the looks, by the way they try to reach out to me, but I push them away, block them out and I sit in the dark, the only company are my secrets.

When I draw I always have a certain purpose to it. I draw me, how I want me to be. The drawings of the me I want to be are beautiful, I deliberately make them so. In these pictures I look more like my mother, I'm not boney thin like I am now, my hair is longer then the shoulder length I keep it. My eyes are the same coconut-shell brown that my mother's were, not the honey-brown I have, the ones that are dead and dulled by my secrets.

When I have finished drawing the me I want to be, I look into the bathroom mirror, and staring back at me is the person I am resigned to be. I'm thin, rather boney thin, with dark, shoulder length hair and honey-brown eyes that are dull and lifeless. I'm shorter then most of the guys in my year, which I hate. To me, I look tainted and ugly and I can hardly look at myself.

When I was thirteen, before I started drinking, before I tried that Muggle drug, I found a way to 'ease my pain'. While everyone slept I would creep into the bathroom, stick my fingers down my throat until I gagged and vomited what little food that was in my stomach into the toilet bowl. I did this for almost five months, until Draco, one of my few friends, found me and made me stop.

He threatened to tell Pomfrey, to get me help. I begged him not to, swore I would stop.

A few months before my fifteenth birthday I started drinking. Blaise, another of my friends, got me onto it. He used to steal his mother's liquor and he'd share it with me. I haven't stopped drinking since. Draco tries to make me stop, but I never listen to him.

I suppose you're curious as to how I got hold of Muggle drugs? Being a pureblood wizard I have little to no contact with Muggles, not that I want to. Well it all started when I met Wilson. I don't remember his first name. He was a Hufflepuff seventh year when I was a fifth year student. He was at one of the parties I went to with other Slytherins. Wilson is a Muggle-born with an addiction to cocaine. Curious, I had tried some.

I can remember some of the images my drug induced mind had conjured up. They were haunting, not just because of the actual image, no, it was because they had been real and I have lived through them.

I suppose everyone wants to know what my big secrets are. What scares me, what drives me to destroy my life and my health? Well, it's horrifying, so I won't share minute details.

The source of my secrets is one man. August Huber. He's a good friend of my father's; they work together, in the Ministry. Huber is in his mid forties with cruel dark eyes and steel grey hair. He and my father would sit together in the sitting room, drinking rum and talking about work and about the Dark Lord and the good old days. They're both Death Eaters, which makes me sick. Why anyone wants to follow that freak is far beyond me.

Huber I knew little of. I was nine when I first met him. You should know that when I was eight my mother killed herself, slit her wrists in the bathroom and bled herself to death like a Muggle. I walked in on her in her final minutes. She killed herself because she found out my father cheated on her with my now step-mother, Cosette. I was devastated, still numb with shock. I think Huber knew this, I think my father had told him.

Whatever he knew doesn't really matter. Actually, maybe it does. He knew I was weak and venerable and he took advantage of that.

The first time he spoke to me was at the celebration of the birth of my step-brother, Bernard, my father's favorite son. My father's friends and family had been invited to the Manor to celebrate. They toasted to Bernard and everyone congratulated my father on such a fine son, as though it was his first and I had never been born. I think perhaps my father wishes that I weren't.

I had been sitting in my room, playing the classical music my mother adored. She used to play it while I slept the familiar notes soothing. I didn't realize Huber had come into my room, not until I heard the lock click.

I jumped up from the cross legged position I had take up on the floor, turning to face him. Consumed with rum and Champaign, although sober enough to know what was up and what was down, Huber had wondered further into the room, closer to me.

Nervously I spoke, almost yelling above the violins and piano music. "Mr. Huber, is something wrong?"

His eyes were a little bloodshot, one lid was half closed, but they were focused, unweaving, on me. As though he could see right through me. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling fear trickle down my spine. I was young; I couldn't understand why he was there or why I should be afraid. I cringe now when I think back to it.

His hand reached out and touched my neck. I instinctivly cringed away from the touch. "Shh, don't be scared." He murmured, coming closer to me. "I know that your father doesn't treat you well." His voice was soft and I was frozen in place, unable to move. "It's unfair."

"I…" I didn't know what to say. I wanted him to leave, but somehow I found the smallest comfort in thinking that Huber was sympathetic, that he was being nice, showing affection my father never had.

"I could take care of you, Theodore." He promised, coming closer, his hands running down my sides. "I could take care of you, make you feel good."

I didn't like him touching me, but I could not deny that I wanted someone, anyone, to take care of me the way my mother once did, before she ended her life on a bathroom floor.

I could give him no reply because he was kissing me. It didn't feel right, it was bruising and he was shoving his tongue into my mouth. I squirmed, not liking it. He held my waist, his nails digging through the cloth of my pajama shirt, into my flesh. I tried to cry out, tried to shove him away, but the sound was muffled, he was too strong, and I accidentally bit his tongue.

He pulled back, the taste of the alcohol still on my lips, and swore loudly. I jumped, starting to shake in fear as he spat curses. He was no longer trying to act nice, trying to make me feel safe, he was angry and he didn't try to hide it.

"You little bastard!" He growled. The back of his hand caught my cheek. I screamed in pain, falling to the ground. The music played on, a heightened tense sound. No one was coming to my rescue. No one had heard.

Huber grabbed me under the arms, pulling me to my feet and dragging me to my bed. I tried to struggle but he hit me again and I smartly fell still, my heart racing, my breathing quick and sharp.

He threw me face down on my bed, leaning down so his body was pressed against my back. He was heavy and my bed groaned slightly under his weight. My cheek was pressed into the sheets, I couldn't talk, could hardly breathe he was so heavy.

"Now you'll be good," He growled, "and I won't hurt you. Much."

It hurt the first time. I cried, the pain running through my whole body as he thrust himself inside of me, his breathing quick and excited, the bed rocking slightly with the motion. I wanted it to end, for him to leave me and never return.

Finally for what seemed like years, he rolled off of me. I didn't move, tears silently running down my cheeks and the pain in my lower half so strong I could hardly move. Finally I heard him zip up his pants and stand. He took my arm and turned me onto my side so I had no choice but to face him.

He was smiling happily, a look of bliss on his face, as though what he had done to me had been wonderful, a great source of excitment. "Now Theodore, you have to promise not to tell anyone. It's our secret." He pressed a finger to his lips to show I shouldn't tell.

I nodded. I did not know what else to do. My father would never believe me, and if he did, he wouldn't care.

It wasn't the last time that Huber came to my room and entered my body. Every time he came to the house, actually. Almost twice a week since I was nine he came to my room, once he even convinced my Father to allow me to go to his house one afternoon, so he could 'take me off his hands'.

These are my secrets I bare in the damn, behind my barrier. Nobody has known about them, nobody but Huber and I. No one has tried to bring down the barrier, to let my secrets flow out into the world.

Nobody, that is, until I met him.

**-TBC-**

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**Well I would love opinions on this fic. Should I continue? Should I delete it? Should I never attempt this line of story ever again?**

**Please REVIEW!**

**Thank you, and with love,**

**Harpy Wings. **


	2. A Stranger Named Sin

Chapter 2: A Stranger Named Sin

**This is for **TheCrescentMoonWriter **who actually wanted me to continue. **

**Chapter 2: A Stranger Named Sin**

It's my sixth year at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord is back. Well he's been back since the end of last year, just nobody bothered to listen to Potter. Now the Ministry have pulled their heads out of their asses and woken up to what's going on.

I found out about the Dark Lord from my father and Huber. They were discussing it during the holidays before my fifth year, about the time I started drinking. When my father was imprisoned at the end of fifth year, along with Draco's father, I was rejoicing, secretly. No father no Huber.

But of course nobody up there loves me. Huber dropped by occasionally.

A couple of days before I went to school I found out about Draco. Apparently the Dark Lord had expected him to join the ranks of Death Eater so he may take his father's place. Draco openly defied the Dark Lord and went into hiding, protected by the Order of The Phoenix, Dumbledore's little band of followers.

When I got back to school Draco was there. Being Slytherin meant that everyone's parents were Death Eaters, well at the very least one parent or close relation. Privately we treated him like a hero, publicly we disowned him.

I know for a fact _why _Draco crossed to the Light Side. I found out when I was wondering the corridors one night when I was fifteen, contemplating if jumping out a window will kill me (although I will point out I will _never _kill myself, it's a cowards way out. Besides, I don't like blood), when I came across a peculiar sight.

Draco snogging Harry Potter.

I swear they were at it as though they were in a bedroom, not a bloody corridor with Filch and Mrs. Norris roaming around. I smartly turned on my heels and walked away. I never brought it up with Draco. We don't really talk anymore.

We were really close as children, from the age of four to eight, before my mother killed herself and we moved. Draco and I had been neighbors and the closest of friends, almost brothers. I remember the first day we met. Draco teased me and I pushed him into a pond. Good days.

When I moved we became more distant, until after I met Huber we dropped all contact that is until we were eleven when we met once more in the Slytherin dorm, our first night at Hogwarts. There was awkwardness between us. I was more then ever detached from reality back then. Finally we were able to move on, rekindling a fragile relationship.

Before Draco found me vomiting in the bathroom I used to have nightmares. Sometimes so bad I would be screaming in my sleep. When I would awake in the middle of the night, sweating and shaking like a leaf, I would crawl out of bed and cross the room to Draco's. One prod to the arm and he would roll over, allowing me room.

We never really talked out those nights.

I'm off track. So, sixth year, we got off the train, made it to the hall, all that boring stuff. I was sitting at the far end, furthest from the head table with Blaise and a few seventh year students. Quidditch beater Garcon, young Death Eater in training Edison and the only guy I know who can drink two bottles of fire whisky and still stand upright, Seelen. They're Ok, occasionally. Tonight I couldn't be damned so sat with them.

Seelen had snuck in some fire whisky and poured it into our goblets while Dumbledore made some crack and bull speech about 'unity against evil' and so on.

Garcon leaned over so his mouth brushed against my neck while he talked. I think there's some rumor going around that I'm easy or something. Probably should look into that.

"So Theo, when are you ever gonna come check out my dorm?" He asked his mouth practically on my flesh.

"When you have something I actually want." I pushed him off and took a sip of my fire whisky and pumpkin juice while the others sniggered.

Down the other end of the table I could see Draco. He was sitting with some guy I had never seen before. He was kind of hot, I suppose, I couldn't really see from my seat. His hair was a blue/black kind of colour and he looked taller then Draco. Come to think of it I think Dumbles said something about a new student.

"Who's the guy?" I asked Edison.

The brunette shrugged. "Sean or something."

"Thanks, very informative." I scoff.

Blaise got up and walked down to the two. Silently the rest of us watched. Garcon's hand somehow found its way onto my leg but I ignored it. I've become used to ignoring touches. Finally Blaise reappeared.

"His name is Sin Von Hellfire and he's Draco's cousin."

"Sin? What kind of name is that?" I asked. I looked back over and saw Sin staring back at me. I blinked and looked away.

The rest of the feast went by in quiet the same fashion. By the time we made our way to bed we were all drunk and stumbling over our own feet. Garcon had actually tripped down the stairs and Sleene and Edison had laughed so hard they had fallen over too. Blaise and I made it to the dorm with only a few accidental stumbles. Draco was already there along with Sin.

Draco rolled his eyes at us as Blaise collapsed on his bed, babbling about something incoherent. I tried to walk to my bed but I kept leaning to the left and almost tripped over Draco's trunk. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, halting any crashing fall.

I was breathing hard when I looked up into the strangest coloured eyes I had ever seen. I think it may be the whiskey but the eyes were such a deep blue. Seriously, who has eyes that shade of blue?

I pulled away quickly, stumbling into an uneasy composer as I surveyed the teen. He was defiantly tall, much so then me, with a blue/black hair colour and those blue eyes. I could almost see his muscles under the shirt he wore, but quickly pushed the thought aside.

Draco appeared by Sin's side. "This is Theo." He introduced, knowing I hate being called 'Theodore', Huber calls me 'Theodore'.

Sin smiled at me, there was this cheerful lightness to it and for a second I almost smiled back. But I didn't, instead I walked past him into the bathroom, pretending I hadn't noticed his smile and that it hadn't affected me in anyway.

When I got into the bathroom I leant against the closed door, trying to gather my racing emotions. I could feel this queasy feeling in my stomach that wasn't fear or disgust, as I have experienced them on more then one occasion. It was different and it was nerve wracking and I think the whisky is coming back on me…

After I vomit my guts out (at least it feels like I have) I find my feet long enough so I can strip down. I hate my body more then I hate my dull, dead looking eyes. I look like a Skelton with a layer of skin. Across my hips and lower back are a series of scars and bruises I never heal. I examine myself in the mirror closely, poking at some of the more visible bones.

There's a knock on the door and I know Draco's trying to make sure I haven't vomited on purpose. I know he still checks. In the middle of the night he wakes up and goes into the bathroom. I know this because I woke up once and saw him go into the bathroom.

"Hang on." I call, pulling on my pajamas and casting a last glance at the person in the mirror. I don't like him. He represents all that I despise, so when I look away, when I leave this room, he'll stay in that mirror and I'll be someone else. Until Huber is back in my room and I'm living the nightmare again.

When I open the door I'm faced not with Draco but Sin. He gives me a concerned look, more then likely he had heard me. I sent him a cold look and walk past him. When I used to make myself vomit I would have cuts in the back of my throat where my nails dug in. Sometimes it bled and I vomited blood. That just made me even sicker. I hate blood.

I ignore Draco and go to my bed, trying to shake off the image of that concerned face that had made me want to cry.

* * *

In the bottom of my trunk is a collection of potions. Some to help prevent myself from getting sexually translated diseases, one to stop myself from getting pregnant and a few sleepless draughts. I learnt the hard way about my first two potions. When I was thirteen I caught something from Huber and I had gone to Mungo's while my father was at work.

The nurse had given me a funny look but I ignored it. Back then I was timed and it had taken all my courage to go see a Healer. She gave me the potions, told me to take them before I had sex, if I didn't use protection. Huber never uses protection. I got the pregnancy potion when I was fifteen. It's rare but some Wizards can fall pregnant and it had happened to me when I was fifteen. Huber had been nice enough to pay the abortion. He claimed he was my 'Uncle'.

The thing about Huber is he isn't deluded by what he's doing. He knows it's wrong, that it's illegal and that I could bring him down. He also knows that I'll never tell because if I do, or if I leave him, he'll just find another child to cause pain to.

He never says he loves me. He doesn't complicate things, which is easier for me. When I was younger he used to buy me presents. Chocolate bars and little cheap toys, I always ate the chocolate and burnt the toys, except for one, a little teddy bear with soft blue fur and button eyes. It sits in my trunk, beside all the potions.

* * *

I woke up in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark and everyone was asleep. I could hear Crabb and Goyle's thunderous snores from the far end of the room. Seriously, it's like sleeping with two dragons. I get out of bed, my feet touching the icy ground. Horrible thing about being in the dungeons is that there's no heating and the floors are always like ice.

Quietly, trying not to wake anyone, I walk towards the bathroom. My head is cloudy and pounding and my mouth is dry. Blaise hides hangover cure potions in the bathroom cabinet, behind a concealed door. Incase Snape does a surprise raid and finds them. I go searching straight away and find that the last bottle is empty.

"Fucking, freakin' hell." I curse. Give me a break, its morning and I've got a hangover, I can't be verbally impressive!

"What are you doing?" An amused voice asks from the door.

I turn around to look at Sin. He's wearing nothing but black boxers and Oh Merlin's beard he's got muscles. Again, morning and hangover.

"I…" I trail off. I don't like talking, especially not talking to some stranger who has the name 'Sin'. I shrug and wince when I move my head to the side. Fuck it hurts. A wave of nausea plagues me.

He moves more into the room. "Hangover?"

I don't answer, instead I push past him into one of the toilet cubical. Screw Draco and his stupid promises. I stick my fingers down my throat, my nails scraping the back painfully, long enough so I gag. Once I've done throwing up, which only makes my headache worse; I fall back against the door, breathing heavily while my throat burns and my eyes water.

It's disgusting and painful but somehow it's so good.

"Theo!?" I blink, my mind registering that it's Draco's voice. Oh fuckidy-fuck!

I flush the toilet and compose myself, which doesn't do much, before opening the door. I wince a little. I smell like vomit, no way I can talk my way out of this.

Draco looks angry, frustrated, frantic and annoyed all at once. Damn he's good. I keep my face stony and don't say anything.

"What the _hell_, Theo?" He snaps, which does nothing for my headache.

I can see Sin over his shoulder. I don't get his expression. I just want to crawl back into bed and into the dark.

Draco has started ranting, which goes on for a while, trust me. Merlin, we're hardly friends and he acts like he's my fucking father or something. Well I have a father and he's an ass so I don't need Draco! I don't say this; I just stand there and let him vent his anger.

I think I taste blood…

* * *

During school I'm the one who sits in the back corner, gets decent marks and distances themselves from everyone else. I used to sit with Daphne and she would experiment on me with make-up, but we stopped sitting together after I came back from the Christmas holidays after my abortion. She saw this haunted look on my face and got herself as far away from me as she could. Smart girl.

Now I sit by myself and actually do the work while everyone dicks around. Except today Sin sat next to me.

It was Charms first, my favorite class. I was sitting in my usual place, taking down the notes already on the board while everyone slowly made their way to their seats, chatting loudly about some big scandal over breakfast. I think Draco and Harry finally came out because they were sitting together, goofy grins on their faces.

Sin didn't say anything. He just sat besides me as though it was nothing new and waited for me to finish writing. I purposely wrote slowly so I wouldn't have to talk to him. A million obvious questions came to mind. _Why did you stick your finger down your throat? How come you look like a stick? _And the dreaded, _Is something wrong?_

Instead he asked an obvious question. "So, you like this class?"

My hand stilled and I really, really wanted to start laughing because seriously, who the fuck asks _that_ when you just stood witness to a guy shoving his fingers down his freakin' throat?

I shrug in a 'whatever' kind of manner and pretend to continue writing although the tip of my quill never touches the page. He doesn't say anything else, just shares my silence.

I don't know why, but I actually like Sin's presence. He's not demanding, he's not suffocating, I still get those queasy feelings but I don't mind them so much. We fell into a comfortable pattern of sorts. We sat silently together during class and lunch and he seemed to sense when I wanted to be alone and when I needed someone, anyone, just near. This continued for a good three weeks until I woke late one night to hear Draco and Sin's hushed conversation.

"…You have to be careful," Draco was whispering. "Theo isn't…normal."

"I figured that out but it's just like…like he's _broken _or something and I just want to _help _him." I could hear the desperate tones in Sin's hushed voice and my heart ached.

"Some people just can't be saved," Draco murmured wearily. "I wouldn't get attached, if I were you, you know it'll end badly."

Silently I prayed to whatever had the misfortune of looking over me, that Sin would walk away.

**-TBC-**

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**Thanks to everyone and please review!**

**With love,**

**Harpy Wings**


	3. The Prices We Pay Are Sicker Then Our Mi

Chapter 3: The Prices We Pay Are As Sick As Our Minds

**Chapter 3: The Prices We Pay Are As Sick As Our Minds**

So the whole 'I like Sin' phase lost its appeal.

"You know, you can tell me anything. I won't judge or tell," He whispered to me once.

My whole body went still and my eyes turned to slits. "Fuck off," I growled and shoved him violently away and went running.

In the blindness of my rage I found myself slumped against the wall of some corridor I couldn't quiet recognize. I felt sick and shaky and scared. I was a child again, afraid of the big bad world because before, I was detached, I wasn't part of it, until Sin the fucker had to remind me I was in it. Why did he have to play hero with me?

"Are you OK?"

My head snapped up and I was ready to snap but my words faltered. Innocent fucking _radiant _Harry Potter was staring back at me with wide eyes. My teeth worried at my lower lip and I felt small. He was coming closer and I realized how violently I was shacking so I pushed off the wall, walking swiftly by him.

"Fucker," I hissed for good measure.

"Theo, my man!" I ignored Seelen's slurred words and sat down between him and Edison. After my run in with the Golden Boy I had headed for the 'party room' dubbed so as it was where the students came to get drunk and occasionally the place to come for a quick shag.

Today Seelen, Edison and Carter, a Hufflepuff who looks stoned twenty-four/seven. Each of them had a bottle of assorted liquor and was more then buzzed. I took Seelen's bottle and took a long swig. While I welcomed the burn and the familiar light headed sensation that followed I felt Seelen's arm wrapping around my waist and his nose buried into the crook of my neck. I wriggled, feeling shivers course through my spine.

He took back the bottle, taking a hurried sip before pushing our mouths together, his hand tightened on the back of my head. I tried to push him off but he wouldn't move so I just let him invade my mouth with his foul tongue. I bit down on it, hard, for good measure.

"Shit, Theo!" He shouted, yanking back and tugging my hair. The others laughed and I detached myself, standing.

I'd obviously wounded Seelen's pride and pride, anger and alcohol don't mix well. I am truly, without a doubt, an idiot.

* * *

I don't return to the dorms until late in the day. Everyone is in class and by a miracle I make it back there without being spotted. The dorm is empty and cold I feel empty and shell like. I'm back to being detached from the world I feel content.

When I'm alone I have a certain ritual. I pull off the clothes I'd worn that night, throwing them to the bottom of the trunk where I never plan to retrieve them. I pull on some fresh clothes and go searching for music. Draco has a radio but I know I need a certain type of music to channel the mood I can't express. I find what I need, a muggle CD and player. It was hard work finding the right Charm to use it, but I happen to be exceptionally good at Charms and I had swayed Flitwick to help me. I pull out the CD I needed, slipped it in and pressed play. Then I sat in the center of the room, Indian style, my head bowed, back straight, eyes closed.

The music started up as I focused on my breathing, watching colours dace behind my eyelids. Angry slashes of red, bleeding drops of grey, slashes of melting black. I see them all flood to together and form the hatred, the pain the agony I feel suffocated by.

"I'm sorry."

I'm startled back into my surroundings, my head whipping around so hard that I wince. In the doorway Sin stars back at me, earnestly. I blink away the fading colours and reach over, stopping the song mid chorus.

"Huh?"

"For yesterday. I'm sorry." He stepped closer, cautiously as though I were some wild animal. "Friends?"

I looked at his offered hand, my mouth felt dry. "You can't fix me," I say softly. "I am broken and you can't fix me. So if that's all you're doing then you can just leave."

He doesn't and I almost have to admire him for the effort. "I know I can't, doesn't mean I don't want to try."

I bite my lip, chewing hard so that I can feel the raw pain. "I'm not worth it."

The corner of his mouth flicked up. "I think you are."

"I hate to see you disappointed."

Now he was smiling, and shrugging. "You can't learn without failure."

* * *

Sin was interesting when he thought he was making progress. I kind of felt bad because for the next week I led him on, pretending to finally 'open up'. I told him little things, shit that don't matter; my dad not loving me, my mum ending her life, my obsession with alcohol. I think on some level he didn't believe that it was all, but he didn't push me.

As for Seelen, the slimy bastard, he approached me of Tuesday and dropped a draw string purse of coins into my lap. It rattled and weighed heavy. I looked up at him questioningly.

He was leaning against the wall, a smirk harboring his features. He couldn't quiet pull the effects of Draco but it was still good. "Thought you deserved it. You're good, Nott."

My jaw set and I was tempted to curse him, but instead I slipped it into my bag and stood. "Pity I can't say the same for you." I turned sharply and walked away, feeling all the rage and humiliation raising in furious waves. I was practically shacking as I slammed the deserted dorm door closed.

"MOTHER FUCKING-!?" In the height of my rage I kicked Draco's trunk, earning a burst of pain in my innocent, unsuspecting foot.

I was fumbling with my wand, prepared to curse the trunk to pieces when the bathroom door swung open and Sin entered with a look of deep concern, and maybe just a little humor.

"Uh…Theo?"

I stopped my breath heavy and labored. We just stood there, watching one another, sizing the other up as it were. I was shaking with adrenaline, my mind buzzing. I wanted to do something, anything, to shake off the energy.

"Sin…" I moved in a daze, crossing the space between us and catching his mouth in a sloppy, open mouth kiss.

He grabbed my upper arms gently, his whole hand was able to wrap around me. He pulled me gently away, a look of confusion sprawled across his face. "Theo?"

Fuck, why doesn't he ever shut the hell up?

"You want to help, right?" I murmur softly, already beginning to lean in. He nods slowly, cautiously, his eyes dark with confusion. "Then help me with this." I pressed my lips against his, bringing my arms up around his neck.

He tried to resist but I applied more pressure, pulling on his neck. He gave in easy enough, kissing back hesitantly. Although I shall deny it all until my dying days, I felt shivers of pure elated pleasure race themselves up and down my spine. He made my skin tingle as he brushed my hip. He made me light headed and foolish and I had never, not ever before, felt such a need that it shocked me to my very core. Sex was nothing to me but self hatred and pain, both physical and mental, it wasn't supposed to feel so…_perfect_.

What the hell was he doing to me…?

**-TBC-**

* * *

**This is taking on a whole new plot to the original I had before. Oh well, I like the way it's going and I hope you do too. Please review!**

**Much thanks to everyone!**

**With love,**

**Harpy Wings. **


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